


Remember Me

by beemblebummed



Category: The Walking Dead, The Walking Dead (Telltale Video Game)
Genre: Canon Typical Violence, canon typical gore, christa is like two days behind clem and its stressful, clementine loves nick and luke both, each character has like their own individual chapter its not all mashed together, i dont have a death wish, im not crying youre crying, kenny deals with his actions and the leftover feelings with them, lee and lilly were friends, lee and molly were friends, sarah and bonnie both are mentioned as being present but arent as focal as everyone tagged
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-30 18:20:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13957311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beemblebummed/pseuds/beemblebummed
Summary: i have a lot of feelings about the ambiguous fate of characters, or just getting in the heads of characters who died. that's basically all this is with a lot of personal choices in relationships affecting what happens. enjoy with care. i might be adding more chapters?*edit: realized this morning that lilly wouldn't have known about duck's bite. tweaked it.





	1. Cringe at the Lightning

**Author's Note:**

> the chapters gradually get longer lmfao
> 
> -mentions of duck being infected  
> -nick's death mentioned and briefly described  
> -luke drowns and it's written out from falling into the water to losing consciousness  
> -christa goes back over the main storyline's footsteps. she finds sarita, she finds sarah, and will continue so on. sarah's body is described somewhat, and it's messy because of how she died.  
> -kenny goes back and finds ben. ben's body is described as being torn up due to his death. kenny's faith comes into play for the end of the fic

"Come with me."

"Okay, yes. I will."

She narrowed her eyes, turned her head slightly. "Really?"

"Yes."

She didn't believe him. Up to the end, he wasn't even sure if he believed him. She urged him to get Clementine, they would all leave together. Lee nodded, and he stepped out of the car. She stayed concealed from anyone else for a moment, watching, contemplating. He was lying. He had to be. If she had even the slightest bond with someone whose child was dying to the walker sickness, she wouldn't leave. Not even for a friend. Especially not a criminal that she had become. But she didn't know someone's child was dying of the sickness, and she was leaving. Lee was lying. He had to be. He had to.

Lilly moved into the seat, grabbed the keys, and started the RV. Lee wasn't coming. He had to be lying. She wasn't sure up until the end that he would have actually come, or if her own paranoia pushed her to leave him. It didn't matter. Kenny needed him more than she did. Even if he was a goddamn asshole, she wouldn't do this. Not to anyone.

The RV quickly swerved, and she hit the gas as hard as she could. It jerked forward and the revving of the engine drowned out Kenny's screams.

Most of them, anyway.


	2. Rain Washes This City

"I'm not big on goodbyes. Tell everyone for me?"

"I will."

Molly liked Lee, quite a lot. He was cool. He had a good vibe to him, and he hugged her like he really cared. She knew she really cared, even if she didn't want to. Parting was always mandatory nowadays and if it didn't happen sooner it would happen later, and leaving him and the group while they were alive and okay felt better than...anything else. Her throat hurt while she quickly descended the stairs, but she swallowed it at the door. She couldn't linger. It would hurt more.

Onto the roads, the girl pulled her mask back over her mouth and nose. There weren't too many geeks in the open, so maybe that was good or maybe that was bad. Regardless, Molly hurried down the sidewalker through the city until she found a way up onto the rooftops. She made her way across them as much as possible, though sometimes having to take to the ground again and climb back up.

She stopped to catch her breath on a bell tower, stepping into the compartment and then grabbing the rope. Just as she did, she thought she heard something. Molly turned her head, expecting to see someone nearby, but found no one. The girl blinked. What did she hear? For a minute, she thought she saw Clementine out on the street, that little girl with a spirit and an attitude she knew would do her well if it was cared for right. Lee would raise her well.

Molly wondered how close she was to the mansion, and reconsidered tolling the bell. It could bring the dead back to them, and doing that felt...wrong. She decided then to carry onto the next bell tower, to toll that one furthest from the mansion and get some of the damn geeks off their backs. Those were her friends, and it wasn't like she was going wildly out of her own way.

She paused. "Friends". God. She really did consider them friends.


	3. Mud Still Clings to Your Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is the one where nick dies

"Nick, come on, we don't have much choice!"

"Luke, you can't just ask me to go out, into...into that!"

"Yes, I can!"

Nick's teeth showed in an extremely pissed off display. Even with his shot shoulder, the man raised his arms and shoved Luke back, everything really hitting him right then. He could die if he went out of the trailer, and Luke would either have to see it or not even know. How could he until he got back to their meetup at the history museum, if he even made it that far?

"Luke, I can't," Nick said, his tone begging, not asserting. He didn't want to die. He didn't want to leave them here and die knowing he couldn't help somehow.

Finally, Luke raised his voice to a louder shout, causing Sarah to jump out of her distracted state long enough to acknowledge her friends were fighting before sinking right back into misery. She didn't want to know what was happening.

"Dude, look, I can't make her move!" he said with a crack in his voice. Nick's eyes widened. He was shocked into silence as Luke continued, all but sobbing, "and if she ain't gonna move, I can't just leave her knowing that, just maybe, my last second action would save her! If I don't go, you won't go, and don't even try to feed me lies!"

Nick just stared at his friend.

Luke, still clearly distressed, whispered, "I need you to go. If you go, you can make it back to the camp, and you can get them out here. If you stay, we will all die. I know we will. We ain't prepared for this shit, but we are prepared to run when every other option is exhausted. Please, Nick I...I just..."

Silence hung heavy in the air, all near dead quiet save for Luke's quiet cries. Nick didn't know what choice to make now. Did Luke really think Sarah had no fight left in her? He couldn't say if he believed the same. She was hurt and grieving, but he had grieved too. He was alive now. She could make it like he had, he needed to believe that. His shoulder hurt, his chest hurt, and now he felt an impending doom hanging over his head that he couldn't bring himself to voice due to Luke's plea.

"All right," he said weakly. "Okay. I'll...I'll try. I, I'll—I'll see you. Later. I swear."

He would barely get beyond the trailer park before the biters took a chunk out of his neck and shoulder.


	4. As Your Lungs Flood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is the one where Luke drowns in detail.

"Clementine, you're light, you can get to him, please!"

"Clem, stay back, no, don't—don't come over here!"

The child searched Luke's face for any trace of direction or suggestion other than that. He saw the conflict in her wet brown eyes, the fear and the uncertainty. He believed he could get out of this predicament, but if she came closer they could both wind up dead. Luke winced as the girl began taking shots at the biters behind him, thank God. He started to crawl out from the water, but then the shifting of feet over ice reached his ears.

Looking up, he found Bonnie sliding toward him and panic rose in him.

"Bonnie, I swear to Christ, stay the hell back!" he shouted over Clementine's gun. "I can get out, you just have to stay b—"

A loud crack preceeded the ice collapsing beneath him and Bonnie both. Fucking Christ, she was going to die. The cold bit into his skin but he fought past it to grab Bonnie through the water and try to shove her upward. She struggled but not against him; he felt her body being heaved out but the force pushed him back. Through the weak ice he saw her being dragged quickly away but the sheet above him only weakened. He couldn't make it.

Above him now was thicker ice. He desperately tried to keep air in his lungs, beating his fists as hard as he could against the surface. In a moment, Clementine was above him. He hit the ice with weak, blue fists, his vision blurring and his ears muffling the sound of a gunshot from Clementine's gun.

He was going to die. He was going to die right in front of her and he could do nothing about it. He wanted to scream but he couldn't. He wanted to cry for her, he wanted to tell her she couldn't have done anything and that it wasn't her fault. Luke didn't know how to fix this, how to save her, how to relieve her shoulders of the guilt she would no doubt bear. She didn't deserve it.

Clementine on her hands and knees, beating the butt of her gun against the top sheet of ice was the last thing his eyes saw. His head hurt. His hands burned. He couldn't hold his breath any longer. Everything burned as he inhaled sharply, water filling his lungs, drowning him, killing him. It burned.

Luke was gone.


	5. She's Afraid That You Won't Come Home (01)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is christa following the group of season two......it big

Christa followed the tracks Clementine had definitely left, and then the river, for two days. By dusk of the second day, she arrived at the bank where the girl had most certainly washed up on. She drug herself through the path Clem had taken, up onto the dock where her footprints had stopped, and through another part of the forest. Eventually, she came upon a camp. She found a few cans of food, packed all but one, and then found the dead dog.

She threw up again.

It was easier to follow blood through the forest, though not a great amount was anywhere. She hoped that meant Clementine was okay. It was just a little bit of blood, and then three sets of prints, and then two: only adults'. Clementine disappeared from the dirt, but Christa did not stop following it. If the girl was dead, she'd be damned if she didn't at least find the girl's body.

The woman didn't stop in the forest at all, making it through in only three quarters of the day. She kept moving, found a river, found the bastards that attacked her in the forest and caused Clementine's and her separation. There weren't many walkers in the middle island, so Christa made it a point to kick the face in of the one man she recognized as the one who shot her ear off. Fucking asshole.

She waded across to the other shore of the river, jogging back into the enclosure of trees to evade any attention she did not want. Only one walker seemed to take interest, but all it took was getting up and over the hill ahead to get rid of it. Stupid monster. Maybe it would keep following her, and maybe she wanted that.

There was a cabin up ahead. Christa approached it slowly, glancing around her surroundings before carefully getting up onto the porch.

"Hello?" she called. No response. She made it around one corner and to the front door before beckoning anyone again, this time with a knock to the door. Nothing came of it, so she opened it with force to enter upon an empty building.

She searched top to bottom, nothing helpful remained except a photo of a young girl, maybe in her teens. The sight of the child just made her miss Clementine even more. She wished she had never lost track of her. She wondered if Lee could have gotten her back in this situation faster than she was. She wondered how differently things would be, period, if Lee was here. She missed him. She missed Omid.

Her vision blurred and she cursed for crying. Omid would crack a joke right about now, but all she could do was drop heavily onto the couch. She had locked the door behind her. She had checked for walkers. She could rest now. Maybe it would be peaceful. Her eyes closed and she felt herself drift away but remained hyper aware of her surroundings as though she wasn't sleeping at all.

Still, upon rising in the afternoon of the following day, Christa felt better rested. After searching again for any food or extra weapons, the woman took off again, following more tracks. Through the forest, past a few roads that only bore smeared bodies across the asphault, until finally, she could see a bridge in the distance. She wasn't sure of the exact number of days it had been. Probably around four. She hoped she was making good time.

It was a half day later that she finally reached the bridge, a trail of slain walkers from the start of it all the way across encouraging that she was at least following survivors. Maybe they could help her find her lost child. She hoped that was the case. She hoped Clementine was safe. That was all she wanted.

The bridge was easy to cross, the hill toward what she saw to be a ski lodge a bit more difficult. It had rained. The slope was slippery and an annoyance to ascend for all the damn mud. By the end of it, Christa was cursing out loud in frustration, ignoring the couple of walkers nearby. She would take them out if they bothered her, but they did not get the chance before she got into the lodge.

She searched again, and stocked up on a few more food and water supplies. She found a photo of two men and smiled just a bit as she gazed at their happy faces. A few minutes later, Christ found the bald man from the photo and did not smile anymore. She did, however, gently slide his eyes shut. She did not know what to think about the situation. She hoped....well, she didn't know what she hoped. What was there to hope for, really?

Another day of rest at the lodge, but only one day, and she left the lodge early in the morning to keep daylight for the tire tracks she began following. Not often did she find tracks indicating a person or multiple persons exit the vehicle, but it happened a couple of times. The smaller footprints seemed to, just maybe, match up with what she remembered Clementine's to look like. She hoped that meant it was the girl, and she was alive.


	6. She's Afraid That You Won't Come Home (02)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> continuation. will THIS be continued though?

It was starting to get colder. Her bones began to ache, but she refused to stop. Unfortunately, she has to when she reached the apparently overrun Howe's store. The herd outside the main building swarmed closest to the building itself, so Christ was able to sneak around. Once on the other side, she stopped for a bit out of the reach of the herd. She contemplated following the tracks she was looking at, but decided that if she had to veer away from them, she would. There was a chance they weren't even the person she was searching for anyway.

Through a less thick forestest area, loosely following the same tracks. It took about an hour, but she found a small clearing with fallen walkers here and there, a few still roamning but mostly not. She found tents, within one being the body of a dead woman. As Christa searched the corpse, she noticed the bite on her hand. A sick feeling overwhelmed her. She wondered if that was the work of the herd behind at Howe's or the stragglers here. Someone had to have put the woman down in the middle of the conversion, and with no gun around and her eyes being shut, Christa assumed it was someone else that performed the mercy killing.

She snuck through the walkers around the area, Parker's Run, and moved toward a collapsed obervation deck. It had a staircase around the back that she planned to use to check things out but first she took out the few freely roaming walkers around her. A softer snarling reached her ears, coming from the wreckage of the fallen deck. She stepped carefully toward it, stopping cold in her tracks at the sight.

It was the young girl in the photo, way back at the cabin. Her clothes were shredded, covering teeth marks and blood, an entire arm gone and her throat so scarce that her head hung slightly. Chewed hands reached out from beneath the planks of wood, desperate growling coming from her still. Christa wanted to cry. She wanted to physically fight whoever had let this little girl be trapped and eaten alive. She sobbed. She didn't mean to.

After carefully ending the poor walker, Christa shifted her glasses to ease her eyes shut. Her hands were smeared with a little bit of blood, and while it wasn't ridiculously fresh it was still wet. Christa didn't stop at the observation deck, about to be running on fumes from the ski lodge rest. It got her past the deck and onto a path that was definitely used by several people including someone as small as Clementine. She only walked for half a day before finding the aftermath of a shoot out. Men and one woman laid scattered around the snow, and a woman clearly fat from pregnancy, propped in a tire off to the side. She had a goddamn baby?

In a frantic search, Christa tried to find out if the late mother had her baby with her still. She found no infant body and no blood on her lap other than lower down, what would have been from labor. She let out a deep sigh, stared at the dead woman for a long while, and then stood again. She would carry on for the remainder of the day and then stop for rest at a power station that had clearly harbored multiple survivors.

After that, she did not stop for full nights nor days until, after a lake, a cabin, and long winding car tracks, she found an actual truck rest stop. She didn't even get to the building before she saw someone hovering by the door that banged against its threshold. The woman drew her knife and slowly approached the unknown person, whistling to grab their attention and discern whether they're a walker or not.

The person turned around, revealing that information: a woman turned into a walker, blood stains on her coat over her heart. Christa gasped, somewhat shocked, but she does not hesitate to take the walker out. Before she had the time to search it and close its eyes, she heard something. A voice? She wondered if it was a snarl or actual words. Carefully, the woman snuck into the building, listening again.

Nothing. Had it been her imagination?

She disregarded it for the time being. She would search the entire mini store, pack supplies that she found, and then slip into a janitor closet to rest with the door sealed. It was a far more fruitful rest than most of the ones she had managed the last few days, and the irony lay heavy in that. Just outside the rest stop, Kenny lingered, but only for a little while longer. He assumed Jane had been taken out by a passerby, only having doubled back in the first place to see if there was any supplies to take from the stop. He found none, and moved on down the road opposite of Clementine.

It was a full twenty-four hours that Christa rested, forcing herself to sleep. Being exhausted made it easy of course, but the itch to get up and keep going had to be supressed. She had to rest if she was going to be useful to anyone including herself. However, she got ready after that day and started moving on again. The footprints of someone clearly smaller still lay in the snow, but they were being gradually concealed. She had to move fast if she was going to keep up with who had to be Clementine. It just had to be. All her effort couldn't be for nothing.

She walked for a week. She kept walking. She rested whenever she could, but that wasn't often. She had to keep moving. She avoided people. She avoided walkers. She avoided anything that could jeopardize herself. She had to find Clementine.

She was going to find her. She had to.


	7. Hope In Madness

Kenny didn't notice he was crying until he ducked into an alley dark and silent, crouching behind a few dumpsters. Something rose in his throat and he coughed but it strangely sounded more like a sob than anything else. His hand moved to his mouth, stifling another several that he didn't know were coming over him. He couldn't make it stop, and the walkers were coming. He had to stop.

The snarling of the walkers increased in volume. Was this the end for him? He inhaled sharply and held the breath, praying to God something would happen, something would save him. Surely he wasn't meant to escape such a close call only to die down the road from it, right?

Suddenly, those bells started ringing out loud. Kenny gasped quietly. He peered around the corner of the dumpster, nearly shouting when he saw the form of a walker barely two feet away, back to him. It was preoccupied by the tolling, dragging itself back to the main road to follow the loud sound. Kenny crouched for a long time, waiting, listening, crying. He didn't know what to do. Could he double back to where he new the others had gone?

He was going to try that.

The man backtracked and reached the alleyway where Ben's picked apart corpse lay. He tried to just move on past the boy, but the haunting guilt and horror in the boy's eyes, the frozen look of a child begging Kenny to save him somehow, ate at him from the inside out. He glanced around to ensure he would be safe to do this, and then quickly pried Ben off of the pole. His hands are soaked in still mostly fresh blood, the smell and the feeling putting a panic in Kenny. Fuck.

He dragged Ben to one of the walls, carefully sitting him up and then easing the boy's eyes shut. For a long time, he just looked at the dead teenager. How could he have wished death on him? He did fuck up. Obviously. But he was still a child. He would have killed the fucker who ever wished Duck dead.

He spent only a moment or so more with Ben's body, leaving it there to rest for...forever. Christ. How could this happen?

Kenny headed back up the ladder he had come down a few hours ago, getting up to the roof with ease but facing an issue at the ledge a few buildings later. The sign aross the alley below had collapsed somehow. It had to have been due to someone crossing it. Maybe his group were the ones to have done that, but he had no way to prove it, thus finding a dead end. He looked down into the street teeming with undead, and decided to find another way.

It would be dark soon. He had to figure out a strategy. Could he go back to the mansion? Fuck, no, there had been too many walkers for sure. He headed the way he had gone after escaping the herd before and without much of a choice, the man chose the dumpster for a bed. It was disgusting and it smelled like a dead rat under a fridge, but he still climbed in and tried to settle in to get sleep. He needed to sleep.

He stared up at the dark ceiling of the dumpster. He couldn't get Ben's voice out of his head. He couldn't stop thinking about Lee's bite and Clementine's fate. Did he ever find her? God. Kenny really fucking hoped he did. Even if Lee ended up dying, at least Clementine could be passed to Omid and Christa and would be safer. Maybe they could even have a family—Kenny had picked up on the woman's pregnancy, as thick as he was. Her demeanor gave it away and he concluded after a while with time to think about it.

"Father, watch over me," the man whispered as he shut his eyes. "Watch over Clementine. If it ain't too much to ask, maybe...let her find them other folks. They can keep her right. I'd appreciate it."

As he had expected anyway, there was not an answer. Still, he concluded as he habitually, genuinely, had for a long time.

"Amen."


End file.
